Little Tom Pollicle
by Ignatesa
Summary: Ever wonder how the cats came to sing and dance at The Jellicle Ball?


Little Tom Pollicle  
  
(***NOTE*** This fic takes place during the week leading up to and the beginning of the Jellicle Ball when Grizabella went up, up, up to the Heaviside Layer, at a time when Jellicle Balls were silent, aside from a few dances. Also, the Prologue and The Naming of Cats are omitted for they were added to the ball in later years. ALW used these songs when he made the musical to make the story more interesting.)  
  
"'ey 'lonzo, 'ave ya 'eard fro' Pouncival yet"? Mungojerrie asked in his thick Cockney accent. Merely two days before, Tumblebrutus, Alonzo, Plato, and their brother Pounce had left their mother to live with four separate human families. All had returned to the Junkyard for visits, except for Pouncival.  
  
"Nope, and I'm startin' ta worry. He would never purposely lose contact with us." No sooner did Alonzo speak, a brown and white tom kitten came running through the Junkyard Gate. Pounce had returned.  
  
"Guys!" he shouted out of breath. "Oh you must have been worried sick about me---can't talk about that now---have to find Ol' D---or Munk---or somebody. . ." He trailed off when the regal gray tabby approached.  
  
"What's the matter, young Pouncival?" Munkustrap tried to calm him down.  
  
"My new human family," Pounce explained, "one of the children can understand what I'm saying!"  
  
The entire tribe gasped in shock and disbelief. "That's impossible!" Jennyanydots exclaimed.  
  
"It can't be!" Skimbleshanks backed his mate up.  
  
"It's true!" Pounce cried. "The little girl was playing with me and I swore I heard her call me a Jellicle Cat. I didn't know what to do, so I blurted out, 'Did you say Jellicle Cat?' She replied, 'What's a Jellicle Cat? I called you my Jolly Good Kitty!' Her grandfather, they call him T.S., overheard what she was saying. That was when I snuck out of the house to come here and tell you."  
  
"This is serious," Jellyorum interrupted. "Do you realize what humans would do to talking cats? We'd be some sort of freak show!"  
  
"I's no' a' ser'ous a' ya thin'," Rumpelteazer broke in. "Tha same thin' 'appened ta me an' Jerr' once."  
  
"And why didn't you tell us?" Demanded Munk.  
  
"Be'caus', i's jus' tha chil'ren tha' can 'ear us. Tha adul's thin' i's jus' thar im'ag'nat'on runnin' wil'."  
  
"And when they get older, they forget everything they heard!" Munk caught on.  
  
"Ex'ac'ly!" Jerrie concluded.  
  
The next morning, Pounce left his new home with the Eliot's and headed for the Junkyard. On his way he caught up with Mistoffelees doing just the same thing. Pounce enjoyed Misto's company a lot, mainly because the shiny black cat always treated him with the same respect as a full grown tom. This morning, Misto could tell something was bothering the kitten.  
  
"What's wrong, Pounce?" He asked cheerfully.  
  
"Something happened after I went home last night," he said uneasily. "While I was gone, the little girl who heard me speak told Old Man T.S. everything. He wrote it all down in the form of poems. Plus, the little boy, Tommy, has started calling himself 'Little Tom Pollicle.' Don't tell anyone, would you Misto. I don't want to be responsible for causing a panic."  
  
"I won't tell," swore the magical cat. "But, could you bring me some of the poems? I'd just like to see what the old man wrote.  
  
"Sure. I'll stick them by your back gate tonight."  
  
Late into the night, while the humans were asleep, Mistoffelees studied the poems Pouncival had left for him. He read Jerrie and Teazer's story:  
  
When the family assembled for Sunday dinner  
  
Their minds made up that they won't get thinner. . .  
  
He leafed through Jenny's tale:  
  
But, when the days hustle and bustle is done  
  
Then the gumbie cat's work is but hardly begun. . .  
  
He went through the copies of every poem, including his own story, until he saw the "Invitation." This would be how, in just a few days, he would start the Ball. He still had one thing to do, though. He had to see Ol' D about a dream that caused him to want the poems.  
  
Misto made his way up to Vicarage Wall where the old Jellicle leader lived. "Mistoffelees, what a surprise!" greeted Ol' D. He paused. "Something's bothering you."  
  
"Yeah," he answered. "I had a dream about 12 singing cats. They were singing in Latin."  
  
"The 12 kittens of Zodiac," Ol' D replied. "I'd nearly forgotten them."  
  
"Who are they?"  
  
"The founders of our Tribe. They came here to England when Rome fell. Their old Tribe, the Halzarie, created songs for each cat and sang them at gatherings. That's what you dreamed about."  
  
"Why don't we sing anymore?"  
  
"Over the years, we simple forgot the old ways. Go now, I sense you have something you need to take care of."  
  
Misto left knowing he was now going through with his plan. He would bring back the singing, no matter what anyone thought.  
  
At the start of the Ball, Misto talked to Demeter and Victoria, "Listen, I need you girls to do me a big favor. Just don't ask any questions. Okay?"  
  
"Sure," Demeter agreed, and Victoria simply nodded.  
  
"Alright, I need you to. . ."  
  
"MACAVITY!!!" Demeter screamed the false alarm. Everyone ran for cover. Misto and Vicki hid in the pipe together. "You ready, Vicki?"  
  
She cautiously made her way out and began her beautiful Solo Dance. As she reached the end of her dance, Misto ran out and began to sing:  
  
Jellicle cats come out to-nite!  
  
Jellicle cats come one, come all!  
  
The Jellicle moon is shining bright!  
  
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball!  
  
Jellicle cats come out to-nite!  
  
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball!  
  
All the cats came out of hiding amazed at what Misto had done. He kept on singing:  
  
Jellicle Cats come out to-nite! . .  
  
Pounce whispered to his brothers, "He's singing the poems Old Man T.S. wrote!"  
  
"What are you bloody talking about?!" they fiercely whispered back.  
  
"The man who heard his granddaughter talking to me! It's alright though, the humans just think the old man made them up to entertain his grandchildren!" Pounce joined Misto in the song and dance:  
  
Jellicle cats come one, come all!. . .  
  
Soon, all the cats were joining in, even the stiff Munk, who didn't particularly like the idea. After starting Jenny's song, he loosened up. Mistakes were made, but no one cared, and all the dances were improvised. When Ol' D arrived, he was surprised to see the singing returned, but didn't say a word. He knew this was a gift to him on what might be his last Ball. What was an old tradition had become something that is probably quite. . . ineffable. 


End file.
